


Penny's Pull

by Abby_Ebon



Series: Kinkember [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 17:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon
Summary: Kinkember Day 1 Hair pulling.Penny finds a way to quiet Quentin.





	Penny's Pull

_Why can’t this be easy?_ Quentin wonders, licking his lips. If this was Julia and James this would be easy. James would see how twitchy Quentin was getting and play with his hair comfortingly on the couch, Julia warm between them. It had been soothing. Easy.

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” Penny is exasperated, sitting cross legged, otherwise quiet – but Quentin can’t be that, he can only shrug and twitch his knee faster.

“Seriously, stop.” Penny watches him but Quentin doesn’t look up, he can feel Penny’s annoyance at Quentin’s inability to sit still turning into something else. If Quentin pretends there isn’t a problem, if he ignores his own body’s betrayal of his nerves, maybe Penny will get the hint and ignore it too and Quentin can calm down and get his homework done without getting into a fight.

Penny gets up, putting his book away, and Quentin can’t help but be relieved, he’s leaving, he’s going to let this lay like the kicked dog it is. Quentin has wondered himself why he is the way he is. He keeps his hair longish because it had somehow felt more inviting, as if by not getting a haircut it was silent permission for James and Julia to put their hands into his hair. Now it simply was something to hide behind.

Or at least it had been.

“Hey, _jackass,_ I’m talking to you.” Penny’s nails dug into his scalp, long fingers tangling into hair, cradling Quentin’s skull as Penny forced him turn his head to the side to see Penny who had crouched behind him. Quentin stared wide eyed; he hadn’t resisted Penny’s guiding hand. The tug had felt good, tingling, grounding.

“Oh.” Penny breathed the word onto Quentin, his dark gaze searching.

“You like this, don’t you?” Penny rumbled, and Quentin practically felt it vibrate along his spine, into him. He couldn’t stop the shaky “yes” that tumbled out of his mouth, it wasn’t something Quentin actually heard – it wasn’t a whisper, but a word mouthed between them, but it was an answer that Penny could see as plainly as the rest of it, for with his hand in Quentin’s hair, the jerking knee had stopped, the fidgeting had gone still.

Quentin had become calm in his grip. Penny dared kiss Quentin, unsure, slow and his grip lax – if Quentin didn’t want it, he could pull away, but he didn’t. Penny knew he hadn’t pulled Quentin’s head closer towards him, yet Quentin was suddenly in Penny’s lap, kissing and clinging to him as if were the only stable thing in the world. Penny was touched by the power Quentin offered, awed by the power in his hand, silken strands of hair tangled about his fingers, a rope that bound him to Quentin – or a leash that had chosen him.

“More. Please?” Quentin asks, or offers, and Penny takes it, tugging firmly at Quentin’s hair, almost playful. Quentin thrashes and thrusts against his hip, hard and aching, Penny is dizzy and smells his own arousal before he feels Quentin’s thigh between his legs, their legs as tangled together as Penny’s hand in Quentin’s hair. There’s give and take, offering and need.

“Yes. Mine.” Penny kisses him to seal this, this need, this deal, this bond. It’s his and its Quentin’s and he’s taking it, making it theirs. Quentin shudders against him with a gasping cry, finding his release as Penny chokes back his own shivering cry. Quentin goes quiet and still against him, and Penny wonders if he’s upset, but he’s reassured almost in the same minute of worry by steady breathing, sleeping.

Penny kisses the hair wrapped in his hand, hiding his grin.


End file.
